


complex number

by lanternstars



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dimension Travel, Kid Peter Parker, Peter Parker is Pepper Potts's Biological Child, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Sci-Fi Babble, Sort of Endgame Fix-it, Time Travel, honestly what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 12:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19463806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanternstars/pseuds/lanternstars
Summary: He was going to pass it up as a dream, but unmistakably familiar dull pain in his chest contradict that notion completely.





	complex number

He could hear whispers, of wishes, of prayers, of promises, not only in his mind; but around him. His right hand already feel numb, but that was to be expected; wielding all powerful remnants of what is supposed to be the beginning of the universe.

The love of his life (god he always knew it was her) a splash blobs of gold and purple in his hazy eyes, moved gracefully, leading the other blobs of brown and red and black and gold (who were talking to him with slower pace than usual, at the end, forgo his usual business of being polite and actually call him by his name, just now, but he’s too slow to respond) to another giant blobs of red and blue (the one that reached him first, cradling gently his cheek before letting go). He recognized all of them, even when he could only roll one in his mouth.

“Hey Pep,” in a breath.

In another, he put everything he could to move his already broken left hand on top of hers. On his dimming chest. 

“Tony…” the way she said it made him long to cry. He could try, but the lights were already fading.

“We’re gonna be okay,” she assured him.

_It’s gonna be okay._

He faintly recalled a smell of copper pricking through his nose, the woman in front of him has her petite hands helping him replacing the reactor on his chest as he lay in his now destroyed lab in Malibu. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Will they?

His love said something that registered as a low murmur in his ears. Another gentle voice, albeit a bit off like an automated, spoke up to respond, this time from his body and hers, his love subtly started to shake.

He fought. He ward off the darkness that sweeping in, staring ahead, lights were coming from his left, letting the world filled to his peripheral even when it doesn’t make sense. The main blobs presented in front of him were still his love, gold and blue, and behind her, on the left, he spotted vaguely blobs of red and blue, and not far behind there’s another blobs of dirty big silver mixed with red and a blue big blobs standing right next to each other, but he focused on the small one not far from him, just right behind his love; blobs of brown and mix of gold, red and black.

“Now rest…” she soothed.

At that point he’s already so sick of describing everything with the word “blobs”.

He knows who will laugh at his current line of thoughts. 

Peter. The blobs of brown and mix of gold, red and black.

And Morgan—oh, his daughter, his heart, her beautiful small face credited to his love and he… he was responsible for her coloring.

He could let Rhodey be the one to walk her down the aisle. But he wanted to be the one. He could let Happy be the one who drove her to the dance. But he wanted to be the one for that too. He could be intimidating. He could let Pepper be the one who escorts her through the offices, telling her everything about the projects. But he could explain everything in detail, more than Pepper (she would take offense to that, he knows) even letting her try to tinker with one. He could let Peter play along with her in the perimeter of the cabin just by themselves, but he wanted to join the two. Who knows what sort of problem those two could cause if left unsupervised.

He wanted to say he loves her three thousand times back right to her face, and kissed her good night once again. Threaten to sell her toys, and let her chuckle it off in her four years old high pitch as “daddy’s silliness” 

_They are gonna be okay._

_Is he prepared to let go?_ He does.

 _Does he want to?_ He doesn’t, though.

Like he doesn’t like being handed things. There’s a long list of just five people allowed to hand him things. One of them is Peter, who didn’t even live near his house. And like Peter, and Morgan, he doesn’t like his stuff being taken away from him.

 _Then don’t_.

* * *

His wouldn’t call his mind swimming to consciousness—as cliché as that sounds—but it does. 

It took a second for him to open his bleary eyes, there’s an itch somewhere he couldn’t reach, inside of his body, but he can ignore it. It wasn’t dark and it wasn’t glaringly bright, but the scenery has not been slotted along with it’s assigned word. It took another second for his ears to catch something buzzing. It took another for him to realize his body is practically feels like shit from head to toe, save for his right arm which is supported by a… sling.

He blinked.

He blinked a few times again.

He’s wearing a brand new dress shirt and a two piece suit, he could tell because it had not been tailored perfectly to fit flatteringly around his torso like he used to. And the suit sleeve was a bit too long for his liking. And he wears a ring around his finger, then it struck him. 

So he stared at the piece of jewelry, intently, figuring something from the two toned loopy metal as if it wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. Nothing can explain what he was experiencing. He remembers but he also doesn’t remember a thing. For a renowned genius, he feels stupid at that moment, blatantly gaping and glaring at the ring around his finger.

“Tony?”

There’s a soft tone present in a very familiar voice from his left side. And that’s enough reason for him to turn his attention away from the ring on his finger. He found his best friend’s (of more than two decades) concerned face, complete with furrowed eyebrows. 

“You alright?” Rhodey said again, this time putting his right hand on Tony’s left knee.

“I…” He wanted to say he doesn’t know. He really has no idea what is happening. Where are they? What are they doing inside an aircraft? Where are they going?

Was the massive battle he was sure he was a part of just an imagination inside of his head? Judging by the puncture wounds on top of the skin stretched on his hand, there’s a possibility of him being under the influence of anaesthetic or any drug. But the coherent thoughts he was having with himself (all inside of his mind, nonetheless!) as of right then said otherwise.

He was sure the IV from his hand was removed two days ago after he whined a lot to the medic in the _Afghanistan_ base.

It hit him a moment later, that the buzzing he heard in his ears is a rebound of sounds made by rapid propeller movement in a jet engine. Particularly a big one. Was used by armed forces.

He’s inside of the carrier owned by the Air Force, bound to California.

_He’s crawling in the rubble of the compound, in Upstate, New York._

He is going home from his capture by the terrorist.

_He is not, going home to the cabin by the lake._

“TONY!” he heard screaming from his left side when he suddenly trashed around, removed his safety belt and scrambling to his feet on the stable Galaxy (his mind already logged the aircraft type—Lockheed C-5M Galaxy—a military carrier—by connecting the owner, where they were based and how loud the engines are). But his body betrayed him still, he found his face in close proximity with the metal floor of the aircraft not a second later.

There’s hands around his body trying to get him back to the seat, he guessed, but he can’t, he just can’t right now when he had to make sure. “NO! DON’T TOUCH ME!” he said in panic.

The touching receded as the world turns around him, he had to remind himself to breathe as he got up on his unbroken left hand, but his feet won’t comply, so he steadied his body by lying sideways, facing a row of empty seats. He gripped his slinged right hand in his left arm, searching for the nanites house hidden in plain sight.

But there’s nothing. Nada.

He stopped breathing.

* * *

James didn’t let himself drown in panic as his best friend trashed around, suddenly so much aware of the outcome of his capture. Tony is already showing symptoms of trauma, but it was on another scale he didn’t expect. 

What did they do to Tony? Other than what his best friend has hesitantly disclosed to him. They _waterboard_ him, they wanted him to build the Jericho, and killed another prisoner in front of him.

James watched in worry, as Tony heaved himself sideways on the floor, eyes in rapid motion, his right side closing in front of his chest to let his pressured left hand to capture the other. He did, however, expect what happened next.

His best friend went rigid, as his chest stopped rising normally (and the device attached to it is weirding James out) as if he doesn’t have the capability to breathe by himself.

He motioned the medic closest to him to care for his best friend, as he crouched his body to his knees by Tony side. He checked the injured man’s pulse and let out a sigh in relief. “He’s stopped breathing after a panic attack,” James managed to get it out of his mouth before the medics set off in actions around his best friend on the floor and exploded in a narration of hushed instructions, in preparation if Tony go into catatonic. Though the head medic the only one in direct physical interaction with Tony while the rest of his team was scattered around the carrier, dispatched to collect various medical equipment.

They are trying to not overwhelm Tony by speaking too loud so he wasn’t offended when the head medic grabbed his sleeve and told him “Colonel, try to speak to Mr. Stark, please. And turn him so he faces upwards, we gonna snub a pillow under his head,” the head medic then turned to one of his subordinates to get rid the stretcher as it wasn’t needed.

Sensing he was trusted to bring back his own best friend from his panic attack, James gently laid a hand on Tony’s right shoulder, slowly pulled them backwards, as the medic with a pillow subtly snubbed them under his best friend’s head. He then pushed him so the injured man face upwards. He glanced slightly at the man’s rigid chest, his sternum supporting the small, out-of-place device that his best friend claimed to be keeping him alive.

“Tony?” he spoke softly, he continued his touch on the younger man shoulder. “Can you inhale and exhale after the count of three? One two three inhale, ” he guided, waiting and hoping for his best friend to comply. “One two three, exhale,” James said again, after Tony grabbed his arms and squeezed it weakly. James hated feeling so helpless in that moment but he schooled his emotion and focus on instructing Tony to breathe properly. 

A few minutes later, a men stationed near the pilot seat—one of the flight engineer he supposed—approached him and said in low tone “Sir, we’re approaching the airport, ETA in fifteen, should we reroute to another base?” as he watched his best friend somewhat snapped out of his daze. And was just lying there on the floor trying to catch his breath.

“What’s the closest?” he asked back, finally. The men looked at his watch and calculated it to the current navigation set on the control board. Upon hearing the name, James contemplated for a moment, before the head of medic not far away from them nodded in answer to James unsaid question about Tony’s state.

James nodded in confirmation to the head medic, helping the team moving Tony back to his seat after asking him if he was fine with that (the injured man groaned in response and just putting his hands up in submission). Then he turned his head to the men standing by the pilot seat. “No, keep going. Ours is five minutes away from the hospital.”

He hoped Tony have more than just another twenty minutes.

* * *

He woke up from his two minutes of staring at the space between the seat across from him (or, in his dictionary, a nap) on his seat, fortunately just before touchdown, in Rhodey’s surprise. “You scared me back there,” he said when Tony turned to look at him in question to his persistent stare.

If Tony was being honest with himself, he felt the same. He is scared. Not by himself, _for_ himself. He didn’t know what is happening. Is his mind playing a trick on him? He remembers everything that had happened. But it’s also hazy, as if it happened a long time ago. 

He already came into conclusion, after his fumbling, there’s no nanites housing on his hand, means no Pym Particles nor Time GPS. The million question is _how_ did he ended up _there_ ? _How_ did his wedding ring still intact on his finger? All of his pain are real, means it couldn’t be just a memory. He was going to pass it up as a dream, but the unmistakably familiar dull pain in his chest contradict that notion completely.

There are shrapnels of metal inside of his body. Again. He has an Arc Reactor on his sternum, and that means he has a gaping hole the size of a baseball ball (bigger, probably) on his torso again. It also eliminated the possibility of it was _just a dream_.

He still doesn’t believe in magic, after all, so he didn’t think it was a miracle gifted by some _magical_ being, albeit knowing now that it’s real. 

He was getting frustrated as minutes flew by, he absentmindedly spinning the ring on his fingers with his thumbs until he realized what he did. He stared at it again, hot tears threatening to fill his eyes but he feels like he can’t afford another panic attack, when he is just a moment away from seeing his love—Pepper—but will she be there?

So the last option is …those rainbow colored gems fucked up. He _should_ have not survived. Yet here he is.

“Yeah, well, get used to it.” He quipped in a slight anger, left hand gripped the safety belt tightly, as the aircraft descending, losing altitude in just a few minutes before bounced once and then stably landed on all it’s tires. He could see Rhodey’s lips thinned in his peripheral vision.

“That’s the thing, Tony, I don’t want to ‘get used to it’” Rhodey responded, he unbuckled his belt first when the carrier stopped, and Tony felt a pang of guilt blooms in his chest. He remembered another Rhodey rubbing his metal covered thumb on top of his cheek, while the one who moved in front of him helped him to stand on his still wobbly feet without another comment.

He quickly turns his face away from his best friend and stared at the carrier’s hatch as it began to open up. The big chunk of metal could not have been moving slower, he started to get anxious until it cascaded enough to reveal a woman, her fiery light red hair flowing down her shoulder standing there in the runway, not far away from her, stood a man whose build he keeps comparing to a teddy bear.

( _“…from a small town, called Gulmira. It’s actually a nice place.”_

_The man rolled the dices, as he pours water into his can._

_“Got a family?”_

_“Yes. And I will see them, when I leave here. And you, Stark?”_

_The man in front of him moved his pieces. He sips. Then he put the can down._

_He did not answer. Afraid of the people watching him going after his hidden family._ )

He swallowed a bile, as the memory coexisting along with a different one in his already jumbled mind. Rhodey started to guide him down the hatch of the carrier, hi feet walked, but his mind blank. And he still on an eye contact with the blue eyes of the figure who he realized already dropped her composed act and approached him in a small jog. 

He noticed small details here and there, his mind keeps storing data he couldn’t process at the moment but they worked relentlessly. He openly staring at the face of his love, her tears already flowed down her cheeks but her face is glowing with happiness and the next thing he knows, her lips on his.

“Welcome home,” Pepper whispered.

There’s actually a few less nagging (than he remembered) coming from her as she slid inside the car first, he then was guided by Happy (the man grinned at him and even in a daze, Tony found that odd). 

He is engulfed in a hug not a moment later after his ass securely positioned on the backseat, by a much smaller figure than that of Pepper, yet the smell is familiar enough for him to hug them back. The hug deepened as he caught himself combing through soft locks on top of their head. He was still in the process of considering the legitimacy and digging his brain out for the logical explanation behind his current predicament when the smaller figure started to loosen up around him.

The name was already on the tip of his mouth until they begin talking a mile a minute.

“I MISSED YOU SO MUCH, DAD! I was going to go out of the car but mom said—” The smaller figure, who by now moved to sit right on the edge of the back seat, in the middle, on his left side, keep talking; any thoughts entered his brain evaporated the moment his eyes focused on the smaller figure features. “—it was too risky for me to go out even in a military base, not knowing who to trust—” The brown locks he combed through with his left hand just now wasn’t long like Pepper’s, it was short and curly, he realized. “—I was even supposed to stay in the house, but Uncle Happy and Uncle Rhodey both though it would be best for me to come and—”

( _He glared as he stepped out of the suit, looking at the eyes reflecting the sunset filled with unshed tears widens and projecting shock._

_He cradled the premature baby who didn’t stop crying in his arms in the middle of the night._

_The boy smiled at him, thanking him non-stop about the trip as they drove through the city, back to his apartment._

_The toddler babbling nonsense but keep calling him so he responds_.)

He realizes that it wasn’t… 

“…Peter?!” 

Tony leaned back to the cushion in distraught, looking at the younger version of _the kid_ , elated but also perplexed; as if—but _he is_ , kind of—expecting another presence. The boy froze at the mention of his—supposed—name, scrunching up his face exactly like he remembered—from both _timeline_ (now that he finally named the different memories he got a sense of dread starts budding on the back of his mind). He realized that he might be close to tears once again, he feel choked up as he took in the sight of the small boy.

“Am I in trouble…?” His son (god it feels so weird for him to address the kid yet it’s completely natural according to the addition of memories he gained) said from his seat in between Pepper and him. 

He was going to speak but beaten by his wife ( _wife_! He screamed inside to himself in—strangely unexpected—delight of the revelation that he married her twice) “No, sweetheart,” Pepper shook her head as she put her hands on Peter’s shoulders, pulled him a little bit into her embrace, brushing some bangs away from the boy’s forehead before glancing up to Tony. “We should be on the way straight to the hospital right now. Happy please start driving—”

Tony eyes bulged out.

“Wait—no!” Words managed to escape from his mouth at last.

“Tony…” Pepper started and he was already halfway to agree with whatever she said; yet he steely stared at her.

He was, in _The Cap_ ’s word, _improvising_ with much more than just a _vague_ memory. But still uncertain about everything else. He wanted to jump into analyzing every single possible explanation, but he was stuck relieving particular moment that he now called “keypoint” of his life. He was contemplating to do everything differently—because let’s be honest, he knew this was already quite distinct than what he called “origin” of what he didn’t—he can’t be sure. 

His experience in Afghanistan _this time_ doesn’t have that much dissimilarity to his internal surprise. So he’s going to take a very much the same approach to what he had done before.

“I’m… fine,” he exhaled. “I’m hungry,” The boy between them casually raised his eyebrows, Tony absentmindedly notes (he also notes that Happy had not moved and been watching from the rear view the whole time). “I need you…” Pepper gave him a look and some his body tension released as a smirk finds its way to his face. “…to set up a press conference, ASAP.”

This time she looks bewildered. “What for?”

“Just do it,” he said.

“You have to give me something, Tony.”

“I’ll tell you Honey, but not now… not now.”

“Are you even in able to do it right now?”

“Yes! And even if I don’t, this is something I have to do, Pep.” They gazed into each other’s eyes for a minute, he lets her search for everything that she needs to see inside of him. A few moments later tugging on each of their shirts snapped them out of it.

Peter held both of their shirt sleeves in his hands before released them, switching stare back and forth between him and his wife. Tony smiled at him and reached the boy left shoulder in one hand, and guided him gently to his side.

“I want American cheeseburger.” A sense of déjà vu (in his case, maybe it should be called déjà vécu) swept through him. He turned and addressed Happy, ignoring Pepper’s small protest. “Onward to Burger King, Hap!”

“Ooh, I want a Whopper,” The boy in his arms mumbled under his breath.

“And I’ll call the office,” Pepper announced as she fishes her phone out of her handbag.

* * *

The trip to Burger King spent in silence on Tony’s part, the boy he remembers _both times_ to be a very good natured squirmed a bit in his arms, but Peter didn’t move away from him. His love, wife, that he remembers baptizing a co-CEO of his family—theirs—company about exactly thirteen years to about a month ago (he still get dizzy when the memories piled up like two negative films layered together) is still on the phone, reprimanding Bambi, her assistant (he remembers distinctly that woman also did not survive the _first snap_ ) to not let legal division got away from avoiding Pepper’s sudden plan for an open press conference.

“If they still not sure, then tell them that Mr. Stark is back,” she growled.

Then it hits Tony that in this timeline, Pepper was named CEO way before the public is aware of their strictly personal (because both of them wasn’t even professional to each other in the Origin either, they danced around each other, _afraid_ , until the world came crashing down, _literally_ )relationship. And based on that information alone, he could guess what their (absolutely not valid) opinion about his kidnapping—some would blame Pepper—claiming her as leeching off the Stark fortune. He scoffed at that.

“Yes.” A pause, “Thank you, Bambi.” Then the golden-red haired woman swiped her thumbs over the ancient (really, it’s weird to know that model actually new _now_ ) iPhone.

Happy suddenly pulled around the corner and drove them far away in the middle of close-to-empty parking lot instead of going in the drive-thru line (really, it’s the best decision the burly man took, knowing his tendencies to overdone and simultaneously undermine his own security measures) and turned to face them.

“I’ll order for take away, you guys catch up.” Tony almost kissed the man for his rare perceptiveness. 

Happy left them inside the running car after turning the divider (that Tony manually installed) up and since the rest of the glass windows already tinted heavily, Tony knew Pepper is not worried about someone spotting them. He watched the man keep moving away from them, turning his attention away from the window, and glanced at her after uneasiness, knowing her burning eyes on him was the reason. 

“What?”

“Rhodey told me you have something to tell me,” he sighed in resignation. 

He pulled his left arm away from his son to let loose the knot of his tie. Pepper followed his hand motion with her questioning eyes. He unbuttoned his shirt, ignoring the scrunched-up confused face of his son, and wallowing in shame to have the reactor in his chest, again. He is waiting for Pepper’s speech until he realized that she only gasped, the reaction he did not expect along with Peter bulged, excited eyes.

* * *

Virginia “Pepper” Potts is ready for everything, when her husband's best friend, the one that leading the desert-wide search, said that her husband will come home a changed man; She is ready for the aftermath of torturous captivity, trauma triggered disorders, and a heap of other things but an ominous-looking glowing device attached to her husband chest is not one of them.

“What is thaaat?” Peter excited question snapped her out of her stupor. She beckoned Tony to explain with her eyes; her husband was slightly taken aback (she didn’t know why) but relented, somehow smiling slightly, his eyes looking exhausted and at that moment Pepper found herself trying so hard not to suggest the trip to the hospital again.

“This,” Tony tapped the center of the device, making it glow slightly brighter “is the miniature version of the current generator in our lab building.”

Peter pushed his small head to the side for a little bit, making her smile at the mop of curly hair in front of her. “What does it do Tony?” Pepper asked this time, beating her son who seemed to have been thinking the same line, who looked up to her and then turn to his father, nodding.

At the question, Tony looked pained instead.

“It’s keeping me alive.” He said grimly as he ducked his head, and Pepper knows her husband is purposely avoiding her eyes and his son’s.

“How is it keeping you alive?” Peter asked, sounding really confused, moving a bit closer to Tony, his small hands hoisted on top of her husband’s lap.

“I’m going to tell you when you’re older,” at that, Pepper finally smiled sadly, her husband is planning to stay alive at least for a few years, and that’s enough for her. Knowing she will get the full story later, she shook her sad thoughts away.

“But I am almost eight.” Peter said stubbornly, though Pepper knows her son isn’t going to argue more.

“Then let’s discuss this… six years from now.” Grinned her husband to her son who she knowingly pouted.

There’s silence she couldn’t name swept between all three of them.

Pepper thinks about the device, about how both normal yet unusual Tony is acting. She was never a dweller, but it made her think about what the future prepared for her. What will happen to her small family.

She had been in despair a week before, when at the time, it finally dawned on her that the possibility of Tony’s not coming back is higher after another futile attempt of the search. She struggled to adapt to what ifs scenario, how should she move on from him with Peter, who had stopped going to school after a month into her husband’s disappearance. She gazed at her husband again until he gazed back, his eyes conveying the unspoken emotions reflected on hers.

Confusion, sadness, fear, and longing.

“So… as long as it’s in you, you will live?” Peter asked, slight tremble coloring his tone. Her son was always sensitive to emotions around him, it doesn’t surprise her when he sounded almost in tears, though Pepper doesn’t want the reason for the tears to be her son realizing how the world currently working against his father. Tony head turned slightly as his gaze fell on to Peter face. With one hand, her husband gently cupped their son’s face.

“Yes, bambino.”

Somehow Pepper feels like Tony wasn’t just assuring Peter, but also her and himself.

* * *

Munching down the cheeseburger Peter passed to his left hand, he’s only half listening to the boy talking about what he’s been doing since taking a break from school.

(“He’s going back on Monday.” Pepper told Tony when he raised a brow at her.

“But that’s three days from now!” complained their son, as he crumpled the hem of his short in one hand and a Whopper (sans pickles) in the other.

“Then you have three days with your dad, Peter. You need to get back to school.” Peter’s face soured further at Pepper’s warning tone and he went quiet for a couple of seconds before launching another story.

Tony just laughed and tried to ruffle the boy’s hair with the back of his hand.)

He found himself caught off guard when his mind surfaced another fact that the freaking interconnected public (social media is always _a thing_ ; Instagram is definitely launched this year, and he knew Twitter is also in their peak along with Facebook) is not aware of Peter, the small figure squirming slightly in his arms, biological son of him and Pepper (his mind is still screaming about how weirdly natural it is). 

The version of _him_ here is fucking badass, he decided, after a minute of processing the current information flooding inside his mind while savoring the greasiness from the meat patty inside his mouth. _He_ managed to keep Peter _and_ his marriage a secret for almost ten years. Tony swallowed. He need to work around the (some) emerged memories (that doesn’t feel too hazy).

They are still on the almost empty parking lot, in one of the never seen BMW 5 Series of his. “There will be dozens of press outside the hall,” he pointed out, focusing his stare on top of Peter’s curly mop. When the boy finally caught on what he implied, Peter immediately snapped his head to Tony and froze.

Pepper responded pretty quick, “There’s still forty five minutes left,” she said. “We can call May up and then change the car,”

This time Tony blinked in surprise. Another name he recognized from Origin had been thrown unexpectedly. Pepper did not wait for him to be done with his current shock, instead telling Happy to start driving down the lot. He adapted to it faster than before however, quickly storing another information to his _I-need-to-look-more-into-these_ box inside his mind. Getting out of his countless daze that day, Tony notices Peter stopped eating his Whooper, this time clenching the bottom part of his hoodie’s cord and it’s aglet.

He glanced up at Pepper who had been watching also, her hand already resting on the back of Peter’s right shoulder.

“Kiddo, you alright?”

Peter shook his head, carefully wrapped his unfinished whooper in silence. “I don’t want to be away from you right now,” he said softly. 

“Oh, honey,” Pepper delicate murmur coaxed the boy to move slightly closer to his mom. “It’s only for a couple of hours, baby,” She ensured, putting her hand on top of his chest and gently pulling the boy’s weight in to her embrace, until Peter completely faces Tony who just pulled the boy’s small legs on top of his lap.

They let the boy laying down on both of them in the back seat until they reached the mansion. 

And he thinks, it’s so nice to see one of his adored facilities not totally wrecked.

* * *

The brief exchange he had with May _Parker_ was weird. He remembered her as the nurse-midwife for Pepper nine years ago, the woman has been sworn (and signed) to secrecy and was listed as Peter’s public guardian. The younger (looking) woman hugged him like a long lost brother, she spoke affectionately in Italian and he just stand there, actually drowning in another memory of the woman who he also made a godmother in another time (Pepper who is currently hugging Peter across from them frowned in confusion at his way).

He only hugged her back when Happy finally pulled out an Audi to drive way of the front yard, honking the claxon that could be heard from inside the living room, where they were standing. Peter hugged him once again, he had wanted to pull the boy in his arms but he currently only able to move one “Well, we have to make do with this for now,” he said to the boy he realized he missed so damn much.

Peter nodded slowly, retracting his hands from around Tony’s torso, then stepped back and latch his hands inside May’s. The boy keeps looking at him with so much adoration, Tony could feel his chest hurts by his own feelings reflecting Peter's.

He walked to the front door joined by his wife, looked back once to May and Peter standing in the living room, still processing these bizarre occurrence.

* * *

In a decade of knowing her husband, Pepper notices instantly that something is wrong the moment Tony stepped out of the car and went face to face with Obadiah Stane, who had been handling the Stark Industries as COO after her husband’s disappearance.

(“You’re still the CEO, Pepper, let me run the company for a while, you should be with Peter. It’s okay to _grieve_.” The man said, guided her to the car after her first breakdown in the confines of her office. He had walked in on her crying after she received another report from Rhodey.)

Her husband had tried to inching away from the man aforementioned when he tried to clungs his arm around Tony after an awkward hug in front of the lobby press. Pepper silently walked behind them before catching up and walked side by side to the main hall of the SI HQ, ignoring the questions and pleas to turn her head to certain direction. When they finally approached the conference room, she spied in the corner of her eyes that Obadiah finally released her husband from his arms, long enough for Tony to straighten his brand-new crumpled suit and fishes out another cheeseburger from his pocket.

She rolled her eyes a bit in a slight exasperation at her husband’s antics. 

Tony walked up to the stage after Obadiah, and gestured to Pepper to follow suit. Not for the first time in public, her husband took her hand in his and suddenly guided her down to the edge of the stage. She was confused at first until Tony sat down, letting his feet dangling down in front of the press. His husband was known to be impulsive and laid back, this wasn’t too surprising, at least to her, not to Rhodey who stayed on the back of the many media personnel, scrunching up his face, a look he does not share with a stoic man beside him.

Obadiah also looked confused, but took a seat on another side of Tony anyway. In the back of Pepper’s mind some media will have a field day taking pictures of the three head of a multi-billion dollar company looking cozy in a press conference. She really has no idea what is coming, and she had a feeling no one really does.

* * *

“Right, why don’t we all just sit? Make it a little less formal…” Tony signaled everyone, and they obeyed, probably eager to let the front man of Stark Industries who had disappeared to talk about his experience. He rolled his eyes inside. Taking a bite out of his cheeseburgers, he contemplated for a moment some doubts starts seeping in, feeding away his anxiety like it’s thanksgiving feast. So he visualized kicking that shit out of the window.

“It’s really nice to be back, you know,” He smiled, at Stane (that definitely forced), at Pepper (his secret wife!) and at Rhodey standing in the back with— _Agent_ , he realized. Closing his eyes for a moment to visualize repelling a flood of guilt, he continues. He spoke about his father, again, this time with more conviction that he knew Howard had tried his best (but was it enough?). A different journalist asked about what had happened this time. He smirked as he walked behind the podium and schooled his face to determination again. 

“I had my eyes opened.” He answered looking pointedly at everyone there. 

“I came to realize, that, I have more to offer this world; Than just making things that blow up.” He snickered inside, but he saw the hurt flashed in Rhodey’s eyes, he clenched his teeth instead.

“And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International,” Pepper and Stane both rose to their feet along with the media personnel that rapidly launched their questions without a beat, he ignored them and did not stop there. 

“Until such a time as I can decide what the future of the company will be.” Just like Origin, Stane tried to take over the press conference, pushing him off the podium, but Tony grabbed the mic faster than him. 

“What direction it should take, one that I'm comfortable with and is consistent with the highest good for this country, as well.” He had not lied, he served his country once, saving President Ellis in… _three years from now, maybe?_ He finished the speech, anyway.

So Tony hurriedly took Pepper’s hand and jumping off the stage borderline hysterics because he did it (again). He’s not going to be left with just red in his legacy. He tuned out the chaos that ensued in the hall, praying that Stane at least gets a bit more hell than Origin from the press and Rhodey. He did not realize the woman he practically dragged across the building had been trying to wriggle out of his hand until they are both in their shared office, his legs hurt from walking almost a thousand feet.

Pepper is dangerously quiet and squinted at him while wriggling her hands. He let go. 

“Pep,”

“What have you _done_?” She spat and Tony winced. He forgot, high in adrenaline back in the hall, about repercussions. About what it means for Pepper.

“Something that I should have done long ago.” He replied, not going to back down. He’s going to try making her see in the same perspective as her counterpart in Origin. There a tense seconds between them, while Pepper composed herself out of her raging fury (he know her so well now he can name her emotions, he surprised himself) and him standing in his place avoiding movements as not to teeter around on his tired legs.

“I’m not doing this with you right now Tony,”

“No, I don’t want us to argue in the house with Peter around, I’ll tell you everything right now.”

He took her hand again and motioned her to the sofas in the middle of the room. Tony sighed and once again unbuttoned his shirt. The arc reactor glowed slightly.

“The man who installed this to my body is named Yinsen…” He told her everything that he only had told her when they started dating in Origin. About what Yinsen had done, his complete experience in captivity (this time instead of stuttering he took small breaks to catch up with his ragged breaths, and Pepper already moved closer and practically surrounded him with her presence) what he had done to escape the cave, and by the end of it, Pepper is in tears.

“Those chaos… wars… happened everyday as long as human lives, and innocents died because of it.” he stated, barely whispering. “I can’t prevent all of those things, I can’t control what people are doing, Pep, but I can take my stand by not letting any responsible parties use my creations to kill.”

* * *

She can not phantom Tony’s pain and horrible months with the terrorist… but she understands now, where’s he coming from.

“And I don’t want to inherit a company tainted with blood to our son,” she nodded solemnly “And ….any extra children…. maybe… we choose to have.” He finishes, smiling teasingly to her. And Pepper can not help but chuckle at his attempt on joke, swatting his upper arms slightly.

“Hey, hey, injured man over here,” His husband grinned in response. She moves slightly, leaning her head on his left shoulder, smelling Tony’s weird choice on cheap body spray. He lacked his usual engine oil, sweat and burnt metal scents but his body relaxes almost immediately at her touch and it’s enough for Pepper.

They sat there in their shared office (since he had not move out and works mostly in his own office back home) enjoying the silence and Pepper realized she is as bad as Tony in thinking that cuddling is necessity… he rubbed off on her and she loves it. She let her musings float back to her husband’s disappearance. There is something out of place about the whole ordeal but she can’t put her mind around it.

* * *

Tony gazes out of the office, holding his wife contently in his arm but his mind halted at the sight of the computer on the desk. He unconsciously tightening his jaw, pulling a muscle that notify Pepper of his movements. 

That computer has access to all SI projects and financial data.

The woman in his arms sits right up, he felt her hand hoisted on his chest and lap. She tries to follow his stare but she found nothing; of course. 

What makes him anxious resides in his mind only, for now, he’s thinking about the decision to dig up Stane’s dirty-back-alley-deals. But as of right then he had not build the armor. The same with his supposed mentor. Stane was not on the supervillain level yet. If he outed Stane that moment, then Tony would not have had to kill the older man.

But then, the Ten Rings might have a chance of success in building back the Mark I. In this timeline however, he already had a son, _Peter_ , Peter is _his son_ , and Stane knows about him. The older man will make sure to end the Stark line once and for all, so Peter is definitely in danger. What did his dad said again, _Greater good outweighs personal shit?_

_The greater good has rarely outweighed my own self-interests._

Yeah, that. But his comeback is even better.

_No amount of money ever bought a second of time._

Tony is definitely not Howard. And Tony is no doubt also selfish about his _personal shit_. But he also knew his self-interest would likely intertwined with the greater good. In order to protect his precious ones... he had to make choices for the greater good. Thus, if he let Ten Rings finished rebuilding Mark I, and somehow managed to build a generator to make it functional, then, things will not end well. Anywhere.

“Tony?” Pepper put her hands on his cheeks and he stared back at her. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” His wife looked unamused. “For now, pep. Nothing for now.”

“But you will tell me,” “I will.” 

She nodded before smiling sadly. Tony can feel his heart clenched got up from the sofa and offered her a hand “I’ll go down to the lab with Happy if S—Obie asks,”

“Alright, and I’ll handle ….the board for now,” She said as she reached his hand. He can not help but grinning. “You, are the best.” 

She just rolled her eyes in return. 

* * *

He went home with Pepper after his conversation with Stane in front of the giant arc reactor is more or less resulted in the same direction of Origin.

Peter greeted them both with hugs (that Tony held long enough but no one commented on it). The boy started to babble about the day he had with May, the woman mentioned waved their way from one of the sofa in the living room, the coffee table were moved to accommodate more room on the carpet which has all colors of…. Lego pieces imaginable scattered all over it.

“That’s my cue to leave, then.” May got up and collected her handbag from nearest side table.

“What! You won’t stay for dinner?” Peter whined, his attention easily swayed from his parents, it seems.

“Thank you so much for this, May, even after a short notice,” Said Pepper hugging the woman that had approached them. 

“Seriously, it’s no trouble.” She responds, moving towards Tony who found himself smiling at the interaction. “I love spending time with Peter.” She added softly as she hugged him.

“Sorry Hogan’s been ogling you,” He said as she released herself from the hug, jokingly, knowing the same thing happened in Origin.

“Yeah… it’s fine, I’m just not ready for that, yet.” He could see Pepper smiling in understanding at the woman. “He still around to give a ride though, yeah?” Both him and Pepper laughs at her awkwardness and Tony nodded, knowing Happy only pulled up through the driveway, not to the garage (also per his request to just let Happy drive the Audi home as he had planned to work with JARVIS downstairs).

Pepper instructed both him and Peter to wash up before dinner, and he happily obliged for once, ready to get out of his uncomfortable non-tailored suit. He watched as his son disappear around two doors down the master suite, while he lingered a bit, instinctively observing the house, something he can not do that morning. 

There’s not much indication of big changes on the second floor, other than the carpets are more aged. However, Peter’s existence in his life at this timeline is prominently marked by many stuff and trinkets he knew he wouldn’t have laying around his mansion at 2010. He entered the suite he shared with Pepper, and his heart clenched again, as the domestic scenery reminded him of Origin. There’s a bunch of small photo frames decorating a long table by a wall, between the door to the closet and the bathroom. The wall it self supporting a big frame of photo of him, his wife and the small boy, all of them wearing something formal.

He shook his head out of sad thoughts as he trudged to the bathroom.

* * *

Not long after, he stepped out of the shower (that it self is a nightmare because of his busted arm) and dress up with only one hand in his usual sweatpants and old shirt (he’s a master at this because of college). 

Facing a wall wide mirror, ready to trim his unruly beard when a box in the corner of the glass rack pulled his attention. He abandoned the razor on the counter to reach for the box with his left hand.

It was a velvet box in color of deep red. He unlatched it to find two wedding rings—the exact same one he has in Origin— _what_ —he rapidly closed the box shut and turned his hand to examine his fingers for the match that he was sure had seen and played with on the carrier.

There’s _nothing_ on there. Not even a mark.

“That is some freaky shit.” He whistled.

“What’s some freaky stuff?” Asked the boy standing by the door, both his hands still on the doorknob, staring up at him. 

Tony scrunched up in confusion for a second as if he’s seeing double but then stopped when Peter suddenly looks uncertain. He had not seen that one emotion from _her_ . This was all Peter. He might have scared the boy with his expression and knowing _both_ Peter’s tendencies to feel guilty over things, he went along with his usual act around Mo— _her_.

“Peter! Watch your—wait you didn’t say ‘shit’” Tony pointed out.

“I didn’t,”

“Thank god, I’m not gonna be skinned alive by your mom.” He said as he put his slinged right hand on top of his arc reactor and sighed dramatically. Peter chuckled and Tony gave himself a mental high-five. The boy shuffled in the room to lean on the counter next to him.

“Mom said dinner is ready.”

Tony put away the velvet box. “Lemme trim my beard first, then we go downstairs, okay bud?” Peter nodded. He peered subtly at the mop of curly hair on his right. The boy was playing with the hem of his shirt while biting his bottom lip.

* * *

Peter turns his eyes away from watching his dad, the man looking very rough with untamed beard and near-hollow cheeks. It wasn’t that he’s afraid, it’s more like he feels unnerved. He almost can not believe his dad is here again, with him.

He recalled hearing small sobs down the hallway from his room one night, originated from the suite he is currently standing in, a month into his dad’s disappearance. His mom finally broke down from her composed self; still in her working suit and skirt, on top of the bed, hugging the duvet covers before hugging Peter who approached his mom after discovering her crying.

They had been sleeping on his parent’s suite every night after that. His mom dug out a lot of his dad’s shirt to sleep in with her short so they both could sleep better with the man’s scent as she lulled him in her arms.

He had to keep going to school with May dropping him off for a few weeks—he hated it with so much passion, adults gossiping on daily basis about his dad’s fate not knowing the man’s child is there hearing every single thing about his supposed demise—and his mom does stay in the house, working on her laptop and the tablet his dad had built for her alone. Sometimes Uncle Rhodey came by dinner time, and he was ushered to his room while his mom had hushed discussion with the Colonel. 

Peter is not stupid, they had been talking about the search efforts that keeps being updated weekly (it was 24/7 in the first two weeks) by the news station on TV. But Uncle Rhodey has details that the news didn’t have. The man disclosed the suspects of his dad’s abduction and the possible area of hideouts to his mom. He knew these things through JARVIS recording system of course—by taking advantage of a loophole in JARVIS protocols—his mom would not approve. And he wonders whether his dad be mad or be proud instead—

Probably sensing his nervousness, his dad suddenly crouched down and guided him to face the man. But instead of asking him things, his dad heaved him up with one hand, huffing when Peter took the cue to wrap his hands around the man’s neck. His dad moved forward and to the right, apparently going to put him on the counter he was leaning before. He released his hands as his dad took a step back.

“Wait there,” His dad said, as he grinned and washed his left hand with water to wet his beard before kicking off his grooming.

Peter couldn’t help but giggled along, fascinated by his dad smooth motion around a razor on his face. “I would use a small clipper to keep my signature beard neat, but my left hand isn’t that stable,” his dad explained like he used to, about the man’s projects, about his school subjects, before he disappeared for three months.

And suddenly something inside Peter opened. He felt his eyes filled with hot tears as he spluttered out words upon words. “I—I miss you so much, dad—Me and mom—we-we-cried a lot, wishing for you to come home—I asked uncle Rhodey to take me too—” he nudged his eyes with the back of his hands, wiping the tears away but it keeps coming until his dad engulf him in his arms.

“Shhh, I’m here buddy. I’m here.” The man whispers as his left hand goes through Peter’s hair to the center of his back, soothing him with gentle gestures. He clutched the front of his dad’s t-shirt, short sobs keep escaping from his mouth.

After what feels like an hour to Peter, his tears finally stopped streaming down his face, leaving him with exhaustion. His dad patted him on the back still as he released his clutch “I’m-I’m okay now,”

“Alright, bud.” The man moved slowly, reaching for a towel to dry his chin, and Peter’s cheeks, before offering him his left hand. “Let’s go eat dinner,” 

He nodded as he took his dad’s arm with everything he has and jumped down the counter, knowing his dad will hold his hand strong enough to keep him from falling face first to the floor.

They both walk quietly through the hallway of the second floor; Peter thoughts fly towards the man holding his right arm. His dad has been more …quiet than he remembered. He thought about the talk he had with his mom about his dad. His dad will be more sensitive when he gets back, she had said, just like how Peter is (but he was born as a sensitive child while his dad isn’t) and his dad probably wouldn’t realize it at first.

So Peter make up his mind to help his dad as much as he could. Because both his mom and dad has always been there for him, when he feels overwhelmed, when he feels too much. He nodded to himself, gripping the man’s bigger arm tighter. He looked up to find his dad’s confused face. He shrugged and smiled at the man instead of answering the unspoken question.

* * *

Dinner is quite eventful, with Pepper constant bewildered face every time Tony asked Peter if he has enough on his plate (which is every five minute or so, when dinner took them only twenty). There’s not much to talk about when both adults realized that their son already exhausted, so Tony offered himself to tuck Peter in. Pepper kiss the boy goodnight before putting the plates away in the dishwasher.

With only one hand, Tony guided the boy in to his deep red painted, space themed room. He tried not to think about the stars and Andromeda galaxy printed duvet covering Peter’s form as the boy buried his face to his pillow. He also tried not to think about the _other one_ —as he brushed through the boy’s locks before he gets up and turn the lights off manually as he closed the door.

He found Pepper leaned on a wall in the hallway not far from Peter’s door, waiting for him. She smiled at him softly as she approaching him and when she’s close enough their body almost touches, Tony can’t help but smiled back.

He captured her hips with one hand and kisses her forehead. “I’m going to the lab,” he stated, staring at her eyes. Instead of frowning, Pepper lips thinned. She knew him too well.

“Tony… you need to rest.” Was her weak attempt, knowing he’s already setting his mind to it. Her hands on his shoulders squeezing him lightly.

“Give me… ” he hesitated for a minute, bouncing off his heels in slight anxiousness.

“It’s thirty eight past seven,” she supplied, holding back a giggle with twinkles in her eyes.

“See, it’s early!” he said as he gestured with his slinged up right hand. “Three hours, then, you can drag me to sleep.”

She sighed as she took a step back. “…fine.” He watched her retreat to their shared room, just before she closed the door, she turned to him again, smiling.

The door closes and Tony found himself alone in the hallway. He jogged lightly down the stairs, stopped by the main floor to catch the night sky tinting purple by the horizon on the gigantic glass windows, then continue his stride down to the lab slash his garage.

* * *

The room is dark. And for a split second, feels almost uninviting. His chest heaved as he absentmindedly noted his heart beats rate must have gone up, because he thinks he heard them in his ears.

“Hey J,” he calls.

He watches as the whole room lights up gradually, from his position to spreading to the edge of far walls. The bots, Dum-E and U turned their clawed head to his way, beeping excitedly. “Welcome back, sire. I’m almost afraid you didn’t remember me,”

Tony smiled.

“Yeah, no. I just… you know, need a moment.”

JARVIS didn’t answer for a few seconds. “Do you want to debrief, sir?” the AI asked in a tone that Tony recognized as hesitancy.

It wasn’t surprising to him to hear a hint of emotion from JARVIS. The AI had developed a wisdom beyond sentient through his adventure being Iron Man for five years in Origin. And that was _before_ Ultron and The Stone. He replied Tony with sarcastic remarks and suggestions, pertaining concerns for him, the AI creator. He had some kind of a bond with the AI himself. That’s why earlier in the evening, he couldn’t find the courage to interact with JARVIS (to fetch Pepper for him to help with showering) it’s a bizarre line of thought; He’s afraid his own constructed AI could confirm that _this is real_.

“Yeah, Jarv. I would like that.”

Tony took a seat in one of the bean bags Pepper insisted to be there, not wanting him to hurt his back while occasionally catching sleep on a chair. Right beside him is a low light holographic projector, small enough to be mistaken as a side table. His mind doesn’t have time wondering about it when it supplied him with another information that it is Peter’s when he is allowed to be in the lab with him.

Huh.

He touched a thumbnail and it shows a rendered model of the mansion. _This mansion_ , he realized. Upon closer inspection, it was built with thousands of Lego shapes stacked on top of each other. He could feel a smile stretched on his face.

“Sire?”

“Oh—Yeah, debrief.” He unassembled all the shapes by gesturing a jazz hands. “So it begins after my Jericho presentation…”

He recounted the things he had said to Pepper that afternoon, this time occupied his hands with the holographic Lego pieces and the plan Peter had made. 

“…based on your story sir, there might be a breach in communication if the terrorist group had managed to know your exact location at precise time.” Tony had not realize he finished reprising the tale until JARVIS stated his observation over the sequence of events .

_Uh, yeah. It’s Obadiah Stane, my supposed mentor, selling information and weapons under the table!_

He picked up a holographic glass-shaded Lego piece shape, he closes his right eye and put the holograph in front of his left eye, looking through it. “Hey Jarv.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Hypothetically speaking,” JARVIS doesn’t immediately responds. “Time Travel is possible by distorting the rift morphed in the edge of Quantum Realm and could be accessed by compressing our mass to smaller than those of electrons—”

“Is there any formula to help with this hypothetical means of travelling, sir?”

“ _No…_ ” He can, probably, write what _they_ used. He suddenly had this projection of himself in front of a corkboard full of papers linked by colored ropes, looking crazy like the image Origin Peter’s sent him every time the teen came up with crazy theories, _memes!_ the boy said, in his mind. He smirked and shook his head.

“But—imagine time and space constructed in the shape of Mobius Strip—” JARVIS did not interrupt him this time. “—and we’re moving in one direction through dimension of time. So, by accessing Quantum Realm, we could rewrite the source code of reality, the space we are living in, and, I don’t know, change the law of the universe? Jumping to different sides of the Mobius Strip itself?—Theoretically.”

“That’s just it, sir, a theory.” Provided JARVIS, exuding exasperation in his tone.

“Humor me here, J. Really,” He looked at the ceiling accusingly. JARVIS didn’t respond. “—so, assuming someone travelled back, or, forward—will there be repercussion?”

The AI took his time to answer. Probably browsing through not just mathematical formulas, but also a lot of science-fiction section of the internet. “Superstring theory would be the most near accurate for illustrating the plausible effect.”

Silence stretched in the lab. Tony stopped stacking holographic Lego pieces, caught off guard by JARVIS’ findings.

“In your theory, sir, the man had travelled beyond the fifth dimension, where they went subatomic, he could access all the different world where the initial beginning is the same. They could have travelled inside the fourth dimension, time, but the conditions you mentioned involuntarily opened another path.”

“So… no matter what we do… the fact that we had accessed the space and time dimension through Quantum Realm, creates multiple reality?”

“Or, travelled through already existing multi-verse.”

Tony tapped his hand on the mini projector to reset Peter’s holograph project data. He glared at nothing for a full minute, catching his breath. “Sir? Your heart beats accelerating in irregular manner, should I call Miss Potts?”

“No—no, no, no!” Tony rushed to his feet. “I still have some thoughts to sort out,”

JARVIS wisely went quiet at his confession.

* * *

He found himself pacing back and forth while stacking his palm repeatedly for god knows how long. The words uttered by Pepper echoed in his mind.

“Tony, it’s gonna be okay.”

Will he?

“We’re gonna be okay."

He will try to, with every ounce of his strength.

**Author's Note:**

> There's so many ways for him to go from there. He could live in this timeline, where his origin self already integrated (what is he? A computer?) in this reality's version soul or mind. Or he could find a way to go back to his original timeline. So many.
> 
> But I suck at writing multi-chaptered fic without planning things before hand (look at so many things I tried to put in and got distracted by it) so I ended it there. It's open for interpretation what Tony gonna do.
> 
> This has been in my folder for… three months. Wrote this in ten days after Endgame release in my country, which is on the 24th of April. And this morning I watched Far From Home twice and went home a soulless body. 
> 
> I love Spider-Man. I've been writing fanfic for him joining MCU since 2012… and written big-ass fic of Gwen Stacy as Pepperony's biological daughter inspired by TASM version but never published it because… I wrote it in my native language. And it's super awkward when I read it again, now, six years later. MCU's Peter Parker is deepening my love for the character. Especially the relationship he has with already established characters like Tony... my heart.
> 
> Though, the entire three phase of MCU is closing, maybe I'll give writing multi chaptered fic of Peter as Pepperony's biological son a chance. What do you think? Please comment below!
> 
> Oh! And have a really good day!
> 
> Edit: July 5th, 1AM GMT +7: fixing the lines concerning Tony's perception towards Howard entire motive (greater good vs self-interest). And minor grammar/spelling/context mistake.


End file.
